


scattered

by MakioKuta, reversemagician (himaAlaya)



Series: MishiMonth 2018 [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: MishiMonth 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 01:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13307646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakioKuta/pseuds/MakioKuta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/himaAlaya/pseuds/reversemagician
Summary: “Keep your voice down.” He hisses, hilarious and ironic. “He’s still in the classroom, I don’t want him to know I left them.”





	scattered

**Author's Note:**

> day 5 - classroom
> 
> it's here!! the hit new collaboration between maki and myself, hot off the press for MishiMonth.  
> it's not late, what are you talking about.

Class had just let out for the day. Saturday’s were usually the days everyone scurried out of the classroom the fastest, leaving Mishima alone to gather his things without constant stares or questions about where he got his bruises. It was a nice break, not being stared at. 

He pulled his pencil case out of his desk, watching dumbfoundedly as what looked like bandaids fell out of his desk. They weren’t there after he got back from the break, were they? He bent over to pick them up. They were bright green, even through the paper packaging to keep them sterile. There was a lot of them, at least 30 from the looks of it. How had someone managed to get all these in his desk? They weren’t even in a box they were just lose in his desk.

He rolled up his sleeves, having opted to keep the rolled down for the day because of a particularly fresh cut. It looked nasty, gouged in deep, but it wasn’t nearly as bad. He carefully peeled back the paper of one, gingerly pressing it on top of the cut. It was a bit too small, barely covering the whole surface. It was better than nothing. The colour was cheerful, lime green smiled back up at him. He smoothed it down, careful to avoid the exposed end of the cut.

There was shuffling outside in the hall and it brought him back to himself. He dropped all the bandaids again in shock. At least this time it was on his desk. Everyone should have gone home by now though, who was even here aside from the teachers? It could have been a teacher, but it sounded more like someone trying to rush away from the door and something incriminating. He hesitated, leaving his things behind on his desk and peeked out the door.

Akira and Ryuji were standing a little farther away, he could hear them, or, he could hear Ryuji at the very least.

“Why do you have so many colourful bandaids anyways?” Akira asked, holding his arm out for his friend, sleeve neatly rolled up as Ryuji applies a red bandaid. 

“My ma buys ‘em. When I was younger we’d sort them in to different colours so we could use our favorites first.” He responds, loudly at that, as he unpeels another bandaid and puts it on Akira’s cheek. He winces, trying to bat his hand away. 

“So is that why you left all the green ones in Mishima’s desk, because you don’t-” Ryuji slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Keep your voice down.” He hisses, hilarious and ironic. “He’s still in the classroom, I don’t want him to know I left them.”

Akira raises his eyebrows. Ryuji just knows there’s a shit eating grin behind his hand. He pushes his face away, throwing the paper at him. Akira laughs, leaning forward and poking his friend in the chest. “You’re the one who needs to learn to keep their voice down.” Ryuji frowns, and Akira picks up his bag. “Maybe one day you’ll master the art known as ‘shutting the fuck up.’ but that day, is not today.” He walks off, waving behind him at Ryuji. “See you at Leblanc.

Mishima almost makes eye contact as Ryuji turns back around, and he quickly shuts the door. It slams by accident, probably alerting him to the fact Mishima had just heard the whole conversation. His mom, huh? That was kinda cute. He didn’t wait to hear if Ryuji was coming back towards his own classroom, he quickly shoved all the bandaids in to his bag, and shoved his phone in to his pocket.

Maybe on Monday after lunch, there would be more of them in his desk. He hoped there would be.

  



End file.
